


a future-gazer, past-dweller

by limeli



Series: golden [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: College Student Armin Arlert, Fluff, M/M, Music Teacher Jean Kirstein, if you read golden then you'll probably want to check this out? i hope so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:40:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28377117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limeli/pseuds/limeli
Summary: “You’re not taking me home out of pity, are you?” Jean whispered while their shoulders brushed as he got closer to the musical junkie.“No, Jean,” Armin replied calmly, lacing their arms together to make sure Jean wouldn’t experience such despair again. “I want to be here with you.”
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Jean Kirstein
Series: golden [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078352
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	a future-gazer, past-dweller

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honestly surprised I didn't include Jean playing any Passenger songs in Golden. Still, this isn't a music fic. I just listened to Passenger's "Remember to Forget" and couldn't help but remember these beautiful two.
> 
> If you haven't read Golden, you can find it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24764992). This happens right after Chapter 5 in case you're interested. I bet this fic is going to make more sense after that.
> 
> If you won't read it, I guess you could still give this short one a try! Still, thanks a lot if you do.
> 
> \- mel

_No, Jean. I want to be here with you._

He felt silly. Annoyed at himself even. Their encounter had been a disaster, and Armin now felt obliged to meet expectations he wasn’t even meant to in the first place. Feeling the weight of their intertwined arms, he stopped his train of thought again just to take a look at the Literature student’s face. It was getting dark, and he just couldn’t believe what his… mail customer? fan? or whoever else was doing right there next to him. However, watching the tiny figure walk gracefully beside him changed things. Everything. Had he been defeated by the audience’s implacable indifference or the tremor his eyes experienced from Connie’s blinding purple lights? There, next to Armin, he felt he hadn’t. He was being calmed down by someone six years his junior but, sure, he hadn’t.

“I’ll believe you then,” the guitarist replied after having spent some minutes in silence. Practically feeling his eyes glow, yet not precisely because of the streetlights lit at night or the cars passing by, he stared at the floor.

“Is the case too heavy? It looks like it’s those secret vaults no one can ever pick up,” Armin answered almost immediately, having seeing Jean’s fingers circling around the straps way too tightly.

“Since I’m tall, I just don’t really suffer that much?”

When the older man heard the unsuccessfully dramatic gasp coming from his companion, he laughed out loud. Together, they took a few turns left and right before they got to Sina Street. After looking around their surroundings, Jean promised Armin they were just a few minutes away. As an immediate response, Armin just commented on how he couldn’t care less for he was having so much fun. Directing his stare towards the blonde man, Jean hummed in agreement and nodded his head lightly. However, as the pristine blue of Armin’s eyes caught him, he felt his soul collapse underneath the friendly façade he tried to pull up.

“Would you – Uh. Would you stay with me outside for a bit longer? I know it’s late. I’ll understand if –“

“Sure.” Jean heard the answer be directed right back at him, and he’d never imagined such a trivial word could possibly twist his insides with such violence. Not the one that harmed, surely, but regenerated you from within. “Thinking of coming back home so soon sort of makes my stomach turn upside down. I’m not prepared to see Mikasa for the time being. If I stay, we’ll have a nice chat. We’ll get to know each other a bit better, and then I’ll just go home to my fast-asleep siblings. What could be better than that?”

“Armin, dunno how to say this, but you’re rambling,” the Music teacher scratched his head softly after his answer. Watching a speechless young man blushing next to him, he entangled himself for the comfort that was lacing their arms together. Notwithstanding, he kept their closeness for the rest of their walk back home. “Whatever it was, you can just vent to me, y’know?”

“Would love to,” his interlocutor replied with a look that remained to be unveiled by the musician. Not understanding where the sudden grief of that pair of eyes came from, Jean waited patiently until Armin would explain himself. “Don’t get me wrong, Jean. I just don’t find the… words.”

“That’s fine,” he simply said before wondering how many times he’d seen his company look so unsure or even unsafe. Still, the thought dissipated as soon as he reminded himself that they were still just acquaintances. “OK. Will you feel comfortable with sitting on the sidewalk? Sorry I don’t have any grass to offer.”

“Sidewalk is perfect,” Armin whispered with what seemed to be a tight smile. Watching him closely, the Music teacher wondered if he was just playing his part to pretend it was all fine. He was shaken by the words that followed. “Really, Jean. The weather’s just nice and, as I said before, I’m glad I could bring you here.”

His neighborhood, though just around 15 minutes apart from the Yeagers’, had an entirely different atmosphere. Not many trees could be spotted around, and a pattern of the same houses overflooded the place, repeating themselves again and again uniformly.

“How are you feeling now?” Armin interrupted his thoughts, poking his knee as he sat on the ground. “You’re still so thoughtful. Would you like to share a piece of your mind with your kindest fellow?”

“The kindest indeed,” Jean attempted at some kind of pretentious talk to match Armin’s natural wordiness. Giggling right after, he sat cross-legged in front of the college student. “It’s nothing really. I just need to recover from whatever happened to me back there.”

“First time?”

“Nah. I should’ve gotten used to those by now.”

“If I could wish you anything good for the rest of your life, I would ask for you not to have anxiety attacks anymore,” Armin mumbled beside him, granting him one of those shy looks Jean wished he could see more often. Rosy cheeks underneath invited him to engrave the full picture in his mind. Keeping quiet, Jean felt bold enough to follow the other man’s gaze resolutely. 

“You know, today –“

“I’m so sorry for crashing onto you.” The college student bit his lower lip as if to show evidence of the traces of guilt that stained his soul. “But then I guess we wouldn’t have talked if that hadn’t happened.”

“Hey. Speaking of which, how come you recognized my suit?” Jean pushed the matter forward with a smile on his face. He wanted to hear whatever Armin had to say, and it felt like the right time.

“I told you it was the Seb vibes. They were too strong!” Armin whisper-yelled at Jean, elbowing him with a crooked smile. “I was just given the gift of remembering how I meet people.”

“Hm. Impressive skills, man. I’m speechless,” the guitarist answered robotically, smirking down at the porcelain face just a few centimeters away from his impressively common one. Waiting for the counterattack, he played with the guitar case’s zip, the _tap tap tap_ of it against the hard case echoing in their tiny space.

Getting no reply from Armin except for the smallest smile his corners could ever pull up, Jean suddenly worried himself to death. He definitely had ruined the mood.

The sound of a loud _pfft_ came after, the teacher’s gaze falling upon the blonde man’s lips instantly.

“Sorry. You sounded funny.”

“Well, you looked funny,” Jean commented in a matter of seconds as if the sentence made any sense at all, a fond smile playing on his lips. When he realized it had just been an awkward attempt at flirting, his expression hardened slightly. “I mean. I’m not making fun of you, of course.” He covered it up. He’d overstepped the implicit boundaries of getting to know one another.

As soon as their conversation died out, he kept his hands tied in front of him, laying on top of his legs. Focusing on the silence of the night and the good feeling of late-night talks, he lowered his head to hide the blush that threatened to betray him. Although he fought himself to feel uncomfortable and keep their conversation afloat, he realized Armin was one of the few people he felt okay with being in silence. Hearing the soft, calm breathing of the Literature student, he let one of his hands slip over his thigh, falling on the dark concrete underneath them. Yearning for a touch he’d known for a matter of seconds after they met again, he turned it around and used his fingers to push his body upwards, forcing himself to stand up again.

“I think it’s getting late. My siblings must be in bed already.”

Offering his hand for Armin to stand up, Jean smiled to himself when he felt one of those pale, soft hands squeeze his. Maintaining some balance on his way up, Armin huffed and smiled shyly. Dusting the back of his pants with his free hand, the shorter of the two looked up at the melting chocolate that Jean couldn’t help from filling his eyes.

“I wish you could stay a bit longer,” he murmured without giving a thought, not even for a second. Finding himself unable to let go, he waited until Armin’s fingers slipped from his hand, everything into place once again. “Thanks for taking me home.”

“It is me who should be thanking you,” the college student insisted, picking the guitar case up from the sidewalk and handing it to the mailman carefully. “I could’ve been a creep. We’ve recently met after all.”

“I’m still thankful for your company,” Jean said, getting his house keys from one of his pants’ front pockets. When his fingers reached the keyrings, he gave Armin one last smile. “I haven’t sent your letter just yet. I promise I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

“Oh, Jean. I’m not here today because of the letter,” Armin clarified in a rush, his voice barely perceptible as it got later. “I just want to be here with you.”

“Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Are you working tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Then, I’ll see you around,” Armin held his head up high, trying his best to assure him of their next meeting.

Walking to his house’s fence, he saw the other man turn around to take his leave. Jean watched Armin’s tiny figure get even shorter from the corner of his eye as distance did its magic. Once he was nowhere to be seen, Jean opened the front door and made sure to lock it. Otherwise, there’d be serious trouble at home, and he didn’t need any of that. Opening his house’s door softly, he made sure not to make any sounds on his way to the messy bedroom awaiting upstairs. He got to the second floor hugging his enormous guitar case and stumbling upon some dirty clothes left outside his bathroom. Finally, he opened the door to his room and plopped on the unmade bed he’d slept on the night before. Before he returned to his senses, he spent some minutes staring at the white ceiling protecting him from the outdoor moonlight, but his trance was interrupted by the touch of his shirt against his wrist.

Laughing lightly, Jean held his arm up and stared at his hand. Marco would have teased him for something as lame as feeling joy for having had Armin’s fingertips explore it. Aware of the intrusive thoughts, he finally realized the Literature student could play the part to leave some of that pain behind. Their bond was weakening Jean’s pain if ever so slightly – it _was_.


End file.
